


see how your lips feel

by shrdmdnssftw



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, M/M, Multi, Open Relationships, Sexswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:17:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrdmdnssftw/pseuds/shrdmdnssftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I mean,” continues Zayn, and he’s still staring at Niall, except the corner of his mouth is starting to lift. “It’s not every day your mate turns into a hot chick, yeah? Gotta make the most of it while it lasts.”</p><p>Or, a temporary sexswap fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	see how your lips feel

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to get in so much trouble for posting this, I know. This is incredibly self indulgent. Hopefully you'll like it. In this 'verse, Niall still identifies as male, even when he has female genitalia, so I've used masculine pronouns. 
> 
> Hopefully aiming to post the rest of this by the end of the week. The ratings/pairings/tags apply to the whole fic, not just this chapter.

When he gets to Harry’s place late on Friday night, Niall’s already buzzed enough to know it’ll be a good one. The house party is in full swing, a weird mix of hipsters and lads and musician-artists that really are more part of the first category than a group of their own. It somehow works, probably because Harry knows and gets along with everyone this side of London, and quite a few more besides.

Niall makes his way through the mass of people, tucks his phone away into the pocket of his shorts. He gets bumped maybe once or twice, but it ends up with Niall being pulled close by someone or other, a shouted _hey, what’s up?_ and Niall nodding his response, not bothered to talk over the noise and music.

He makes it to the kitchen in record time to find Harry standing there, two bottles of beer in hand and waiting for him, probably since he was the one who texted Niall to come over. He does a quick hand wave across the room and Niall waves back, tries to edge around the couple that’s lazily making out against the fridge.

“How’re ya then, Harry?” Niall asks as he finally gets close enough to talk.

Harry nods, passes over a beer before putting taking a swig of his own. “Yeah, ‘m alright. Few people over, you know. The usual.”

Niall laughs because of course this is usual for Harry. It’s not Niall’s scene, not really. He’s a bit out of his element, more used to lounging out at home, telly on and a beer in hand. From the look on Louis’ face as he makes his way over, it’s obvious to everyone around him too.

“Harry,” Louis’s saying, as he grabs Harry’s bottle. “Can you explain to me why Niall’s dressed like he belongs in an American college film?”

And Niall hits him for that, because yeah, maybe the US flag singlet is a bit much, but he’s not that bad.

“Oi, that hurt,” Louis complains but it’s affectionate. “Never said it didn’t look good on you, though, so.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Niall responds and he takes off his snapback, runs his hand through his slightly sweaty hair. It’s hotter inside the house than out, and he gestures with a nod of his head that he’s headed out.

“Either of you lads wanna join me?” but both Harry and Louis shake their heads.

“Think Zayn’s out there, though,” says Louis. “Having a smoke or something.”

“Or something?” Niall asks and it’s pretty obvious what he’s up to, but Niall wants to be sure.

“Yeah, dunno how Liam’s letting him smoke up so close to their concert, though.”

Niall wonders if Liam even knows that the party is on, but abandons that thought when he spots Zayn, lounged out on some old couch in the cramped backyard, joint in his hand.

“I’ll see you lot later then?” he says and when they nod, he leaves Harry and Louis in the kitchen, the former still trying to get his drink back from Louis.

The crowd thins as he walks through to the door, less people pressing in on either side and Niall’s glad to be rid of most of the claustrophobic feeling. He all but throws himself down on the couch next to Zayn and waits for the other guy to notice Niall’s arrival.

It’s nice out, a bit cool but nothing that’s really bothering either of them and he can feel the body heat coming from his friend through the thin sleeves of Zayn’s t-shirt. After a minute or so, Zayn focuses back in enough to see Niall, smiles lazily at him because it’s always a bit slower when Zayn smokes up.

“When’d you get here?” Zayn’s asking but it’s not really what he means and they both know it. It’s _are you staying long?_ and _have you got a place for tonight?_ because Zayn’s nothing but considerate.

“‘Bout ten minutes ago.”

Zayn nods in acknowledgement and looks at what’s left of the rolled joint. “Would offer you some, but...”

He trails off, but Niall just smiles, says, “C’mere.”

Plucking the joint out of Zayn’s hand, he takes the last hit, throwing the burnt out roach in the direction of an ash tray. Breathing in deep, Niall holds the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before leaning in close to Zayn and breathing out. He puts his hand on Zayn’s shoulder for balance, thumb digging into the hollow of Zayn’s collarbone and when Zayn breathes in the air between them, Niall can feel the movement of his chest.

He knows he should probably pull back at some point, but Zayn’s more comfortable than Niall’d like to admit, so he stays close, eyes trying not to focus on the line of Zayn’s cheekbones. Of course, that’s when Zayn opens his eyes to see Niall staring, and he smiles, kind of sweet and confused all at once because “weren’t you out with Josh today?”

Niall takes the opportunity to sit back a little, but leaves his hand resting on Zayn’s shoulder, thumb still resting in the hollow there.

“Yeah, but Harry said he was having a party, and, you know.” He nods towards the open doors, through to where the party is still going strong, as if it explains something.

It seems to be a good enough answer for Zayn, who leans back into the couch and stretches his arm out so it goes around Niall’s shoulders.

The conversation lulls for a bit, Niall happy to listen to the sound of the party and the city around them.

Eventually, though, Zayn turns to Niall and nods at the beer in his hand.

“Can I have a drink?” he asks.

Niall doesn’t say anything, just passes the bottle over and lets Zayn finish it off. The face he makes when he realises that the bottle is empty makes Niall want to laugh and maybe kiss him. If anyone asks, it’s the weed talking, regardless of the fact that he’s not even been affected by the hit he took.

“D’you want another?” says Niall and he resigns himself to moving, if only to make Zayn less weirded out with how intensely Niall knows he’s staring. He starts to heave himself up off the couch but Zayn stops him, pulls him down with a hand to his wrist. With a tug, Niall lands back down, almost on top of Zayn now, but it doesn’t seem like the other minds.

“Stay,” Zayn says and his arms wrap around Niall, as if to stop him from escaping. One of his hands slips beneath the hem of Niall’s shirt and while he could pretend it bothers him, Niall just settles back down into the curve of Zayn’s side. Zayn starts humming, content and mellowed out and Niall thinks that this is nice.

-

The next day is normal enough, if normal means waking up on Harry’s couch, hair fucked up beyond belief and somehow minus his pants, but not his basketball shorts. At some point, he and Zayn had gone back inside, probably in search for drinks. Niall’s not quite sure, really, but he figures they’d found some, if the fuzzy feeling in his mouth means anything.

At least he’s inside and mostly decent – the last time Harry’d texted Niall over, he’d woken up with his shirt and shoes gone, somehow on the roof of Louis’ car.

He shifts a little to get the sun out of his eyes and realises that what he’d thought was a lumpy pillow beneath him is really Zayn, half hanging off the piece of furniture, and dead to the world. Niall huffs out a laugh and tries to roll off with the least amount of dick to dick touching. It’s much too early for that, and also, he’s pretty sure that boners are only ever involved between the two of them when Zayn and Niall are _really_ drunk.

When he does manage to move away from his sleeping friend and out of the living room, Harry’s already in the kitchen, frying up some eggs and bacon and tomatoes (in separate pans), while simultaneously watching the toaster. Niall grunts a hello and Harry laughs, says _good morning_ and flicks his hair out of his eyes.

The next day is normal enough. It’s the day _after_ the day after the party that things start to get weird.

-

Niall’s not one to be bothered by much. He tends to take to most things pretty easily, and Harry’s said quite a few times that it’s what they like about him.

Truthfully, some of it is down to laziness, but another part is simply that Niall doesn’t really mind many things, so long as they’re not horrifically offensive or some shit.

He doesn’t find it too weird when he wakes up without a boner, probably helped by the fact that he’s waking up _without_ Zayn’s body pressed beneath his. Of course, it’s when he goes for a piss that he realises he’s also woken up without his dick.

Niall’s first instinct is to go _huh_ and check if it’s all gone down there, but when he finally opens his eyes enough against the pull of sleep, the boobs that have turned up on his chest are much more distracting.

They also explain the extra weight he felt on his torso. What they don’t explain, however, is why he’s got female parts now. He’s desperately dying to pee now, though, so he gets over the fact that he’ll need to pee sitting and just goes.

Standing up afterwards is a whole other matter entirely and Niall feels off balance. He’d put it down to having just woken up but he’s also reminded about lower centres of gravity or something.

Whatever it is, Niall eventually makes his way to the sink, washing his hands and inspecting his reflection.

He looks- different, to say the least. His hair was getting pretty long to begin with, dark roots showing through the blonde but now it extends in a sort of floppy mess that threatens to curl over his eyes. His eyelashes are thicker too, lips fuller and jaw a little less square. Niall supposes he looks a little like what a sister of his might, except that the Horan family was pretty well full of guys. It’s weird.

Scrubbing a hand over his eyes, Niall breathes out, “bloody hell.”

He decides to call Liam first, since he’s the least likely to take it well and the most likely to ask questions. If Niall wants an honest response, he’ll get it from Liam.

When his friend picks up the phone, Niall’s settled back into bed, running on the principle that the best place for sorting out problems is underneath the sheets. Or something. He’s still waiting for it to sink in; the way that his top hangs loose on his frame, exposing his right shoulder and the pale skin there, says enough about the physical changes.

“Niall! Did you have a good time last night then?” Liam’s voice comes through loud and clear through the phone and it’s kind of reassuring, grounding in the way that Liam usually is.

“Yeah, listen, Liam mate. Say you woke up without your bits, yeah?”

“You mean your wallet or something? Did you need me to check at my place for them?” and of course Liam is sensible as ever, because no matter how blunt Niall can be about this, the idea that he’s somehow _lost his dick_ wouldn’t be the first idea to pop into anyone’s mind.

“No, I uh. I woke up today and my dick wasn’t there.”

There’s a pause and Niall wonders if his voice is any different. He can’t tell much himself but apparently the accent’s enough for him to’ve been confused for his mum once or twice so.

“I mean, completely gone, yeah. So I was wondering what you’d do.”

It’s suddenly looking like not that good of an idea to have called anyone at all. Niall slumps down on his pillows and looks down at his chest again. They’re decent sized, small enough to be quite perky and Niall wonders if it’s weird to be turned on by himself.

“Niall,” and Liam’s voice is slow, cautious, like Niall’s going to hang up and do a runner on him. “You didn’t take anything last night?

“What? No, Liam, ‘m being serious here, mate. I’m. Look, I woke up this morning and I’ve kind of not got a dick anymore, and yeah, boobs and stuff instead.”

“Niall,” Liam says, “stay on the phone, yeah? I’m going to come over there now and we’ll see about looking after you.”

Niall sighs in frustration. “Liam, really ‘preciate that you’re being all nice about this, but I’m not on a bad trip, or anything. You saw me last night at the gig, all I had was a couple o’pints.”

From the other end, though, he can hear Liam getting his keys, wallet and telling his turtles goodbye.

Niall wonders how long it’ll take Liam to freak out once he’s actually seen him. He’s still blathering on the phone, talking to Niall about how he should stay still and asking if he’s seeing anything else weird, hearing any colours or seeing sounds and Niall feels comforted that, should he ever try acid, Liam’d probably take care of him.

When the doorbell finally rings, Niall’s glad that they live in the same block of flats, because Liam would’ve talked his ear off soon.

“I’m here now, yeah,” Liam’s saying on the phone.

Niall opens the door, says, “Yeah, hi. See, I’m totally not tripping.”

And that, of course is when Liam looks down, much further down than he’s used to, sees Niall’s tits and faints.

-

Niall watches as Liam wakes up slowly, cold compress still on his forehead and more than a little disorientated. He’s already got a mug of Liam’s favourite tea waiting and has gotten started on heating up some toaster waffles.

Once Liam’s sitting upright, Niall walks over, cautious because he’s got to get this part right at least, and passes over the mug.

“Though you might want this, yeah?” and he tries a smile on for size.

It must be weird though, it _is_ weird, the way that he’s only just noticing how his voice is a little softer. He’s still got a pretty rough accent going on, though, which Niall supposes is comforting.

Liam just blinks and takes the mug, sipping from it.

Niall flops onto the couch, a little ways away to give Liam some space. He’s kind of in awe of how breezey his clothing feels right now, though, the way that the singlet and shorts hang off his frame. He switches on the telly, just for something to do while he waits out Liam’s shock.

When Liam’s finally drunk half the mug and looks ready to talk, Niall stops channel surfing and turns to his mate. “So what d’you think?”

“I’m. That’s actually you then? This isn’t just some fucking messed up plan of Louis or Niall’s then?”

Niall laughs, a bit in disbelief. “No, pretty sure this is real. I mean, I still kinda look like me so it’s just like. I’m a girl or something.”

“I don’t think you’re a girl - I mean, you’ve got bits” and he waves his hand in Niall’s direction like he’s never said the word boobs before “and all, but girl is like. Gender and stuff, yeah? Not the bits you have.”

“You’ve been talking to Harry, haven’t you?” Niall says with a laugh. The fact that they’re back to joking probably means something good about his mental state.

“No, I’ve been taking Gender Studies classes for my course,” and somehow Liam manages to sound offended and proud at the same time.

“Fair enough then,” Niall nods. He breathes out and starts again. “I’ve got a vagina and boobs and I’m not entirely sure why.”

Liam looks at a loss too. “I- you’re sure that you didn’t take anything, right?”

“No, at least, I didn’t think I did?” Niall thinks back to the night before, when they’d gone out to watch Liam and Zayn perform at the dingy bar around the corner. “Had a couple of pints and me and Zayn smoked up afterwards, but not anything else, yeah.”

Liam raises his eyebrow at the mention of them smoking up but lets it go.

“So why’re you- ” Liam makes some sort of vague hand movement.

“Well, ‘m fucked if I know,” Niall says. “Woke up this way, didn’t I? Figured I’d call you and see what you think.”

They sit there for a while longer and Liam gazes into his mug like it’ll give him some new insight.

“So are you going to tell the others, then?”

Niall shrugs. “Still hasn’t really sunk in yet. I mean. I could, I suppose, but I wanted to know what you’d think and you fainted so...”

Liam looks a little embarrassed at that. “It was a big shock, yeah?”

“You’re telling me,” Niall says, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, curls in on himself. “I don’t even know my own body anymore.”

“At least it’s a good one,” says Liam, and then he flushes, like it’s weird to say that. Which, Niall thinks, it probably is but most things about this situation are.

“Still bloody weird, mate,” and Liam nods in agreement.

-

Liam takes it on himself to tell the others – he’s the least likely to be involved in a prank, though Louis will strangely actually listen to him if he vetos an idea. It’s probably something to do with the fact that Liam and Louis have somehow known each other for a while, longer than Harry and Louis even.

In any case, when they get to Harry’s flat, Liam’s got Niall in a sweatshirt and asks them all to take a moment, ‘cause this is as weird for Niall as it is for them.

He steps aside and Niall feels like he’s a bit on display here. Louis’ half asleep himself, somehow dragged out from his room before noon to witness the spectacle. If witnessing it means nuzzling into the collar of Harry’s shirt. Harry himself is actually staring, open mouthed, at Niall and he flushes a bit under his inspection.

“Well,” he says after a pregnant pause. “That’s new then.”

“You’re telling me,” Niall says and he laughs, rich and low and not nearly as loudly as he’s used to being.

“So I was thinking we should keep this between us then,” Liam says and Niall turns to look at him, nods. “Figure it’s easier than trying to explain it to everyone.”

“Should probably tell Zayn and Josh though. Need some people to take notes for me classes and all.”

Harry laughs at that because “it’s not like you even go to them.”

Niall pokes his tongue out and feels a bit better for it. “’s the thought, or whatever.”

Louis lifts up his head, like he’s finally acknowledging it all, and gives Niall a once over.

“Nice rack,” he rasps and Niall laughs.

“Thanks Lou, but my eyes are up here.”

“Yeah, and your tits are nicer,” and he gets a smack from Harry for that one.

-

After the surprise filters out, the novelty of it all stars to fill in. Harry recruits a couple of his more fashion oriented friends to help out Niall with some clothing. He kind of wishes that wearing his own clothes was enough but whoever designed basketball jerseys didn’t really account for boobs and his own shorts aren't really fitting well against the set of his hips. On the bed, already set out, are a pair of denim shorts, an assortment of tank tops and a couple of women's t-shirts. Harry leaves him alone to "pick out whatever you like, yeah? None of the girls really mind what you keep," and Niall is left staring at the clothing.

He’s never really been one for dressing up much, or caring for brands beyond his sneakers, so he rummages through Harry’s drawers instead, knowing that the other guy won’t mind that Niall’s pinching some sweatpants. Harry’s hips are usually bigger than Niall’s but the curves of these hips make them sit nicely. He does end up taking one of the girls’ tops and pulling it on, watches as the fabric moulds over the shape of his body. It’s still kind of surreal but Niall spends a good minute or two feeling himself up in the mirror to get used to it, which helps.

Harry also somehow manages to convince one of his girl friends that Niall is a foreign exchange student from Sweden who needs help with the UK bra sizing, just to get Niall some proper undergarments.

Truth be told, Niall doesn’t expect much from the shopping trip, but when he comes out of the store with a week’s worth of girls panties and matching bras, he finds himself actually having enjoyed it.

“Are you headed back to Harry’s then?” She’s quite nice, Harry’s friend Aimee, and can obviously see that Niall’s _not_ from Sweden and is humouring them anyway.

“Yeah, suppose so. Dunno what else I’m doing while ‘m here.”

“Over from Sweden,” she smirks.

“Yeah,” Niall laughs. “’s a lot nicer here too.”

“Cute guys?” she asks and Niall likes this banter.

They’re at the flat now, outside Harry’s door and Niall can already hear Zayn and Sandy inside, probably smashing Harry at Fifa. “Eh, they’re okay.”

“Well,” says Aimee, “if you’re ever looking for more than _okay_ , I’d be happy to take you out on the town. Show you the ropes or whatever. We can get you some nice clothes, some drinks.”

Niall smiles. “I’ll think about it, yeah?”

He figures it’ll still be a while before he’s used to walking around in this body, let alone trying to pull some guys or girls. He takes her number in any case, digs out his phone from where he shoved it into his trousers and lets him take her photo to add to the contact.

“So I guess I’ll see you ‘round then?”

“Yeah, thanks for today,” Niall says and the door opens, Louis apparently having been lying in wait for Niall to come back.

“’s no problem, love,” and she kisses him on the cheek, passes him off to Louis.

“Ah, are you already getting into the British girls then?” he says teasingly, and Niall smirks.

“Just because I can pull better than you ever could.”

Louis hits him on the shoulder as he pulls him inside the flat. “Blasphemy. I am clearly the best, considering my kept boy.”

Harry flips him off from the lounge room, eyes never leaving the screen.

“Oi, Zayn, Nialler’s back. You can see for yourself now,” and of course Louis doesn’t care that there are others there, just outs Niall.

Zayn’s eyes dart to the doorway between the two rooms and pass over Niall, but he does a double take, ends up staring at Niall in his new clothes, better fitting than what he’d had on when Liam left him with Harry this morning.

Next to Zayn, Harry lets out a cheer as his team scores the winning goal, finally beating Zayn and Sandy’s championship team.

“What the hell was that, Zayn?” Sandy’s asking and Zayn’s not listening. He’s still staring at Niall, eyes taking in the differences and Niall thinks that it’s maybe different to the way that Liam or Louis catalogued the same changes.

More intense.

“Fuck, Niall?” he says and it’s tinted with confusion but also amusement.

“Yeah, I’m surprised too,” he laughs and then Sandy notices, wolf-whistles.

“Nice look, yeah?” Niall asks them all, ducking out from underneath Louis’ grip and flopping down onto the couch, and on top of Zayn.

“Decent,” Harry smirks, still glad for his victory.

“Yeah,” Zayn echoes. “Decent.”

-

“I’m still waiting for Niall to realise he could probably keep his wallet in there.”

From across the kitchen counter, Niall calls out, “I can _what_?”

“Louis,” Liam says with a frustrated sigh. “It’s not some kind of novelty, you know.”

Niall snorts because, really, it sort of is. If he were one to worry, maybe he’d be more weirded out still, more concerned that it’s been three days without his dick and with boobs. And a vagina. He still feels kind of weird thinking about _that_ , though. It’s a whole different world down there and so he tends to ignore it in favour of things like this – fishing out his wallet and trying to see if he really _can_ fit it between his boobs.

It’d probably have worked better if he’d had bigger tits but Niall figures you get what you’re given. Louis comes over to give it a look and whistles.

“Nice.” He reaches up for a high five, ignoring the look that he’s still getting from Liam.

“Am I the only one who is taking this seriously?” Liam asks to the room at large.

Louis doesn’t respond but Niall looks up to see Zayn shrug his shoulders. He’s slouched on the couch in Liam’s apartment, waiting for Harry to text and say they can all come over again. Normally they’d be hanging out at Harry’s place but the kitchen floor is still littered with beer cans from the week before and Harry had wanted to clean up. He’d also wanted some help from the others but that’s where Niall’s affection for the guy stops. No matter how many good parties Harry throws, Niall still hates hanging around for the aftermath.

“Still a bit surreal,” Zayn says and he gives Niall _another_ once over.

It’s weird since, even if they hang out pretty regularly and get off together some of the time, Zayn doesn’t usually look at Niall this much. It makes him squirm a little, because he _knows_ what Zayn means by that look, knows those eyes will usually end up with Niall’s hand down Zayn’s jeans in the dark corner of some party. Or Zayn’s mouth against his neck, leaving marks that even Liam notices.

“I mean,” continues Zayn, and he’s still staring at Niall, except the corner of his mouth is starting to lift. “It’s not every day your mate turns into a hot chick, yeah? Gotta make the most of it while it lasts.”

Niall outright blushes at Zayn’s words and Louis takes advantage of his distraction to steal his wallet, and a grope of Niall’s tits.

Snapping back into the conversation, Niall shouts, “OI!” and tries to get the wallet back before Louis starts rifling through it. Louis’ holding it up over Niall’s head and usually he’d be able to reach it easily but the new body he’s in means that he has to stretch to get a grasp.

As they both struggle to get the upper hand, Liam walks over and plucks the wallet from Louis’ hand, giving it back to Niall.

“Thanks, mate,” Niall says with a smile and then he pokes his tongue out at Louis. “At least I have you on my side.”

“You’re both five year olds, I swear,” Liam replies, exasperated. “I’m going over to Harry’s. Maybe he’ll actually want to talk about the fact that, I don’t know, you’ve been like this for half a week now.”

“’s honestly no big deal, Li,” Niall says and he combs his fingers through his hair again. Liam’s picking up his car keys and heading over to the door already. “Zayn doesn’t think so.”

“Yeah, but Zayn just wants in your pants,” Louis says and apparently he’s tagging along to see Harry once more, calling out Liam’s name as he ducks out the front door.

“I- that’s not- ” and Niall turns to look at Zayn as the door swings closed. “Do you actually?”

“Depends,” Zayn says and he stands up to walk into the kitchen, and sit down next to Niall. “If I say yes, will I get to?”


End file.
